


Emptiness and Sand

by a_borderlands_tale (weaving_a_tale)



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fiona is...actually coping pretty well, Gen, I mean...as much as you can given the situation, Rhys is out of his depth, Sisters Before Misters, The universe is vast the cons are ripe and someone’s heart is breaking tonight, platonic Rhys and Sasha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-11 23:11:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18434075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weaving_a_tale/pseuds/a_borderlands_tale
Summary: You didn’t survive on Helios, in Hyperion for that matter, without knowing how to play the cards you had.(Or, what happened between the opening of a Vault, and the establishment of the new Atlas on Pandora)





	Emptiness and Sand

You didn’t survive on Helios, in Hyperion for that matter, without knowing how to play the cards you had.  
  
Not that he necessarily.... **had** the cards he claimed to be holding at the time. But it wasn’t like anyone else did either.  
  
Least with Atlas he could control the deck. Well, if he... **had** a deck he would have controlled it.  
  
Most he had at Atlas right now was scraps of paper with lopsided squiggles that smudged if you pressed down too hard on them, if your fingers didn’t just go through the paper entirely.  
  
He actually **missed** the scraps of paper as he grimaced, his chest pressed against the ground, spitting out sand with enough force it could pierce a Skag’s hide.  
  
Despite his efforts, his tongue still felt rough, the particles slowly clawing their way down his throat.  
  
_That’s what you get for keeping your mouth open!_ he could hear Sasha sing mockingly.  
  
_That’s what you get for opening a_ **_Vault_ ** _,_ he thought bitterly, his teeth gritted as he pushed himself to his knees.  
  
He hacked, the sand persistent in its descent despite the fact he was coughing more than breathing at this point.  
  
Something thick rested on his tongue before he spat, groaning as he tried to get in a breath of air.  
  
Which only made the sand still in his windpipe lodge further. _Perfect_ .  
  
_Despite his best efforts, he was_ **_still_ ** _going to die surrounded by emptiness and sand._  
  
He shuddered as he let out another wracking cough, his body curling inwards in the effort to expel what sand remained.  
  
With the sounds he was making, he was surprised no hell-spawn of Pandora were coming in droves. 

He risked a glance towards the horizon.

Surprised... **nothing** was coming, actually.

No Psychos intent on playing his spine like a xylophone.

No bandits trying to turn his body into Swiss cheese.

No Skags, Rakks, Rakk Hives, multi-armed craziness, Bags-O-Bile, whatever those things were that could turn **invisible** were….

_He wasn’t a scientist, shut up._

In fact, the desert was quite... **barren**.

And had Pandora always been this _bleak?_ Grey rocks, grey sand, grey sand **_shifting…_ **

_Grey sand shifting._

“Oh **shit** ,” he intended to say.

What he got out was a syllable, and _barely_ that, before something shot from the ground before him.

Mottled grey and covered in blisters, eyes yellowed as it slid from the earth. Long limbs and sharpened teeth, its head cocked as the padded stumps of its toes spread out across the sand.

Flicking out its tongue before it began to wriggle towards him.

 _You have to go Rhys_.

Its throat bulged as it began to click, deflating before it would inflate again, each protrusion of its throat sack accompanied by a click and a groan as it continued to saunter forwards.

_Rhys, you gotta move._

Shifting along the sand, practically gliding as it flicked out its tongue again.

_Rhys, if you don’t move…_

Opening its mouth, some of its teeth rotting and covered in bits of skin.

_RHYS!_

He scrambled back, heart thudding as he kicked some sand into the creature’s eyes.

 _Yep._ **_Totally_ ** _meant to do that._

The creature screeched before its throat bulged again, still extended as it let out something akin to a series of harsh barks.

The sand shifting around it before more creatures sprung forth, a click next to his ear as he felt something stick to his side.

He swung his arms wildly, something bursting under his hand and he suppressed a gag at the warmness of the liquid dripping down his fingers.

Something latching onto his chest before he was forced onto his back.

Teeth now glinting above him, some rotted and others covered in bits of flesh and cartilage as the long toes spread across the front of his vest.

Weight on both of his arms, latching him to the ground. Two of the creatures pinning him down as the main one flicked out its tongue.

He tilted his head, his cheek pressed against the sand.

Giving his cybernetic arm furtive glances, never looking more than a few seconds as the creature pinning it down salivated over it.

Knowing if he actually **looked** at his arm, that had taken him **months** to develop and test…

The **countless** prototypes that had failed…

The lines of coding he'd lost nights of sleep over, making **sure** that his arm couldn't be accessed by the cybernetics in his head, that they ran on two different codes, parallel but never intersecting…

That he wouldn't be able to do it.

So he closed his eyes, shifting his shoulder around until he felt the arm loosen.

_He could do this._

He could do this **_again_ ** , each snap of a wire coming loose as if he was shredding through his frame with a _saw blade_.

How bad had it been, **really**?

Sure, he'd passed out before from tearing out his cybernetics, but that had been **everything** , this was **just** his arm, maybe if he braced himself…  
  
There was a low, guttural sound to his left, followed by a shriek.

His eyes opened on instinct, tilting his head towards the sound.

The creatures hovering above him stood at attention, their necks craned as they looked into the distance.

The same two tones repeated, the creatures tilting their heads in interest.

The one on his chest let out a chirp, cautious but optimistic.

This time, the sound a chirp followed by what sounded almost like purring, a low rumble that Rhys felt vibrating through his frame as the creatures imitated it.

Stepping off of him before they eagerly scampered towards the sound, their bodies wiggling from side to side as they ran.

Rhys let out a long exhale, staring up at the grey sky (he was actually starting to miss **black** and **brown** ) as he set his arm back into place.

 _Well. Not doing_ **_that_ ** _again_ , he thought as he forced himself to sit up. _Oh_ **_c'mon…_ **

Grimacing as he stared at saliva on silver, shaking his arm a few times in the dim hope it would get it off.

Hearing a click next to his ear before he felt the barrel of a gun next to his temple.

 **Oh...** **_shit_ ** **.**


End file.
